Aarvi didn't ask him to sit down.
She didn't offer tea.
She didn't pretend this was casual.
She stood there, arms crossed loosely, watching him like she was bracing herself for impact.
Riyan didn't rush to fill the silence.
For once, he let it exist.
"I'm not here to convince you," he said finally.
"I'm here to be clear."
Her eyes flickered — surprise, maybe relief.
"Clear about what?" she asked quietly.
"About why I step back," he replied.
"And why I don't want to anymore."
She stayed silent.
So he continued.
---
The truth he had never said out loud
"I learned early that staying costs something," Riyan said.
"When people realize you care, they expect you to bleed endlessly. And when you can't… they resent you."
Aarvi's expression softened, just a little.
"So you leave first," she said.
He nodded.
"Or I make myself unreachable."
She swallowed.
"And with me?"
"With you," he said, voice steady, "I tried to do the same thing. I told myself distance would protect you."
"But it protected you," she corrected gently.
"Yes," he admitted.
"And that's the problem."
---
The answer she didn't expect
Aarvi took a breath.
"This is the part where people promise to change," she said softly.
"And then don't."
Riyan met her eyes without flinching.
"I'm not promising perfection," he said.
"I'm promising accountability."
That stopped her.
"If I get scared, I don't disappear," he continued.
"If I pull back, I explain why. And if I hurt you—"
He paused, jaw tight.
"I take responsibility. I don't hide behind silence."
Her chest tightened.
She hadn't expected that answer.
Not grand declarations.
Not forever.
Just staying present.
---
She finally asked the question
"Do you want this," Aarvi asked quietly,
"or do you just not want to lose me?"
Riyan didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"I want you," he said.
"Even if it's difficult. Even if it scares me."
Her breath caught.
"And I want it honestly," he added.
"Not in secret. Not in fragments."
---
Her choice
Aarvi closed her eyes for a moment.
When she opened them, there were tears — but no panic.
"I can't promise I won't get hurt," she said.
"And I can't promise I won't pull away if I feel myself disappearing."
He nodded.
"That's fair."
"But," she continued, "I won't build distance just to survive anymore."
That was her answer.
Not yes.
Not no.
A beginning.
---
The moment settles
Riyan didn't move closer.
He didn't touch her.
He just stood there — present, steady, not asking for more than she was ready to give.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"For what?"
"For not giving up on me before I learned how to stay."
Aarvi looked at him — really looked.
And for the first time, she didn't feel like she was waiting for him to leave.
She felt like he had chosen to stand still.
---
Something fragile, but real
They sat on opposite ends of the couch, space between them — not distance, just room to breathe.
No labels.
No rush.
Just two people choosing honesty over fear.
And Aarvi realized something quietly, without certainty but with hope:
The answer she needed wasn't a promise of forever.
It was proof he wouldn't disappear when things got hard.